Courage Does not Always Roar
by ThisOtherSideofMe
Summary: "...Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'" There are lessons to be learnt in life, and one of those is to never insult Stiles' friends and family in front of him. Apparently that's a lesson that Kali needs to learn. A multi-chapter story about Stiles overcoming his human limitations in a new way. M for language and violence


**Prologue: Willingness to be Afraid**

**'Courage is the willingness to be afraid and act anyway.' Robert Anthony**

* * *

Stiles could hear their heavy footsteps the moment they entered the building. He could tell them apart, they were so different. Derek's heavy boots, and the way he walked like he was carrying the sky-which sometimes he did, the selfish bastard- all stomping like a herd of elephants.

Isaac's steps were the quietest, his sneakers sometimes scuffing and squeaking on the floor.

He could hear Lydia's boots softly clacking on the concrete. Lydia used to walk like she owned the world, with a confident gait, but now; it was as if the world owned her. Her shoulders back as always, but her chin would sometimes droop, as she too had to carry the weight of the world, even though the world owned her.

He could hear Allison, patrolling the perimeter with Scott, looking for any of the Alpha Pack that had survived. He noticed their muffled breathing and the occasional light sound of her pulling her bow back, and Scott growling at the slightest noise.

He could barely keep his head up the exhaustion was sinking in. He meekly looked down at his shaking hands. They dripped in crimson blood, saturated down his arms and on the floor. His vision was getting blurry; the shapes started shifting, and the colors blending.

His head swayed, spots danced in front of his eyes, and suddenly, he wasn't on the ground anymore. A pair of wiry arms lifted him into the air and then he was flying. Away from that awful warehouse with the vendetta spiral, away from the blood, away, away, away…

…..

He was drifting in and out of reality, sometimes hearing the quiet pitter-patter of rain, or the hushed whispers of distress. He opened his eyes sometimes, blinking at the now too clear world, or the backseat of Derek's car. His eyes felt weird, as if someone had blown sand in them and then tried to wash them out with mouthwash. He blinked, trying to get rid of the weird sensation, and felt everyone else's eyes look over at him.

He shifted in Isaac's arms, and the teen loosened his grip and helped set him up slightly. He peered out of one heavy-lidded eye, noticing Lydia crouching right beside him. She took his face in her arms, and for a second, he thought she was going to kiss him, but she just leaned in closer and stared into his eyes. She looked at him for a long while; he could almost see the gears turning in her brain.

"Is he awake?" Scott asked quietly.

"I would assume so, considering his eyes are open and he's looking around." Lydia snapped. She changed tones and looked down at Stiles softly. "How do you feel Stiles?"

He looked around again, taking in the fact that his feet were in Allison's lap, his head in Isaac's, and that they were in Derek's loft.

He cleared his throat slightly, "I feel fine," Even though that was the farthest thing from the truth he knew.

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**This is the first chapter of a Teen Wolf Novella that I am working on. I am centering this story around valiance and courage. All of the chapter titles will be fragments of a quote, or poem, or song lyric that I think retains to this chapter. It was a prologue, and yes it was short. I do promise they will be longer, and most of that will be story or description and not dialogue. I want this story to be about the pack's thoughts and actions more than their words. As a pack, you don't need to speak as much, because you are so intimate with these creatures that you know what they're thinking. I don't think I'll switch POV's very often, though there is an occasion where you'll see all of the characters views in a later chapter. **

**A word to the wise; I just started High School, have Band practice from 6:45-9:00 every morning until November, and swim practice from 3:00-6:30 every night until the end of the year. I will barely have time for homework, much less personal writing. I will try to write this as much as I can in my free time, but there is no promise that I will make. Though I _do _promise to update at least twice a month, hopefully more often. But, I also would like some semblance of a social life sometimes, so that's another deduction of time. Not to mention swim meets, band performances, and my band is going to the BOA Grand National's in Indy November. **

**Goodbye my little deranged fandomists.**

**With love, Dmitri.**


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